


Liar Liar

by Lena2TheLetter



Category: Brittana - Fandom, Glee
Genre: F/F, brittana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:49:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena2TheLetter/pseuds/Lena2TheLetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana returns to Lima for a wedding. Quinn and Kurt are determined to help her save face in front of Brittany who is blindsided by Santana's reemergence and forced to reevaluate some of her choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liar Liar

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins in media res, so don't worry if you're confused at first. Happy reading!

"Uh… What's going on in here?" Sam stood awkwardly on the threshold as if blocked by some invisible force field.

Brittany stared back blankly seemingly unable to form words despite all eyes shifting to her for instruction. Quinn sighed when she realized Brittany was going to be utterly unhelpful.

"Hey Sam, I was just coming to pick Santana up from her visit."

"Her visit." It wasn't a question, more like an echo.

Brittany looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes, avoiding the eyes seeking hers, one pair blue like her own and the other a deep formidable chestnut.

"Brittany, I thought we had an agreement. You said-"

"Sam! Brittany cut him off with a desperate pitch to her voice. Can we discuss this in private?"

Santana whipped her head towards Sam and then to Brittany, her gaze jumped back and forth between the two like a restless fruit fly. She felt on the verge of some horrifying discovery; Einstein when he split the atom and feared for the world.

"Wait…" The revelation dawned on her slowly. "You told him you wouldn't see me didn't you?"

Silence, thick and suffocating.

Quinn shifted to Santana's side and held her at the crux of her elbow as if she half expected Santana to snap and hurl herself at someone.

Brittany took at shuddering breath in as tears began to drip forlornly down her pale face.

"Tell her Brittany. Tell her she's not supposed to be here, tell her what you promised me!" Sam's voice was steadily rising as Brittany's silence stretched out long and deafening. "Tell her!" He yelled.

Brittany's sobs finally broke audibly from her throat and she choked, struggling to reply.

"I can't."

It was barely above a whisper but all three of them heard it like a pin drop in a silent room.

"Damn it Brittany! Are we fucking back here again?"

Something did snap in Santana then, a rubber band in her chest finally broke.

"Don't talk to her like that! She doesn't have to explain anything to me."

Quinn's grip on her arm tightened and she brought her lips close to Santana's ear.

"Santana, you've got to breathe. He's not worth it." Quinn's gentle whisper was nowhere near as soothing as Brittany's but it succeeded in breaking the rage spiral her mind had been rapidly swirling down.

"No, you're right. You're right. Let's get the hell out of here." Santana was shaking so violently that she didn't trust her body to obey her words but with Quinn's help she took a step towards Sam still in the doorway. He stepped aside, eager to clear her exit.

"Santana, wait!"

Brittany's voice stopped Santana dead in her tracks and halted Quinn's momentum.

"Britt, you clearly have some things to sort out and my being here isn't going to help. I'll see you later."

Santana didn't know whether she should phrase it as a question but Brittany nodded in confirmation regardless and Sam gave an indignant scoff as Santana and Quinn made it out the front door. Santana missed the scent of Brittany's house the second her foot hit the green of her front lawn but she knew she couldn't go back, not yet.

"So what are they talking about?" Kurt's voice rose above the noise of the surrounding bar.

Santana shrugged and took another sip of her beer.

"I don't know. I think Britt promised Sam that she wouldn't see me this weekend. At least, not intentionally and not alone."

"That's bullshit!" Quinn exclaimed. "She's the one who came looking for you, nobody forced her."

Quinn looked like she could go on but Santana stopped her.

"I know Q, I know. But she clearly doesn't know what she wants, I don't blame her for that"

Quinn shook her head and shared a meaningful look with Kurt.

"I think you're wrong Santana. I think she knows exactly what she wants, and that's the problem."

Kurt took a sip of his vodka cranberry and whistled after swallowing.

"God, I thought we'd escaped this kind of drama after high school."

Santana laughed despite herself.

***

 

Santana's skin, darker than usual from the hot summer rays glowed below the rushing line of water at her ribs. She shivered and Brittany watched as goose bumps rose along her arms as they balanced upon the waters edge, fingers splayed feeling the waves lick cool between her fingers.

Brittany slipped behind her and wrapped her warm arms around Santana's small frame, smelling the deep spicy scent of her neck, pulling it into her chest and holding her breath. Her eyes slipped closed as she marveled in the moment.

Bubbles tickled Brittany's shins as Santana turned in her arms to face her. Her eyes were dark and full of something enigmatic that Brittany could never name no matter how hard she tried, or how long she looked. Brittany blinked and freed a droplet of water that had been balancing upon her eyelashes. Santana kissed it away as it slipped down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry about this year Britt. Artie should never have said those things to you… and I-" Santana looked down and Brittany held her breath again, though this time to avoid scaring the wild and terribly skittish little bird she recognized emerging despite Santana's best efforts to suppress it. "I should've been there for you. I should never have been so selfish, so… so cowardly."

Brittany stopped her mouth with a kiss, their wet mouths meeting and opening to warm insides. Santana whimpered, a noise Brittany had only heard behind the safety of locked doors until that moment. She felt her chest expanding with love and pulled away to take a desperate breath.

"No more apologizing San. You're here now."

"I am." Santana confirmed, slipping her hand up from Brittany's hip to her ribs, brushing the underside of her breast. Now it was Brittany's turn to shiver as a familiar heat settled in her core and she almost cried out with the glory of it.

Her eyes shot open and the cry finally slipped out, much more quite and broken that she'd anticipated. She felt soft sheets beneath her clenched fists and blinked around in the suffocating darkness. Her hand went instinctively to her mouth to belatedly muffle the sound and she breathed wetly into her palm feeling her heart beat an angry rhythm that reverberated in her ears.

 

"Brittany? I heard you yell, are you okay?" Sam stumbled into her room, hair tousled from sleeping uncomfortably on the couch.

"Okay." Brittany repeated looking blank.

"Yeah, did you have a scary dream or…? I heard you shout from the living room."

Brittany felt her face flush with the heat she had previously been feeling much lower and shook her head.

"No, you're not okay? Sam asked, bewildered.

"No. I mean I'm okay, yes. Yes, I'm okay." Brittany rambled helplessly.

"I hope you don't feel like I'm guarding you. I just didn't feel like I should go home after fighting, you know? I felt like I needed to-"

"Guard me?" Brittany asked pointedly. Sam looked down, uncomfortable yet only vaguely regretful and Brittany conceded, sparing him a small apologetic one shouldered shrug. "Sorry, I'm just tired."

"I guess this means I'm still relegated to the couch then, huh?

Brittany looked down, silently chastising herself for feeling guilty.

"I think we need to talk about this afternoon before that can happen." She whispered out.

Sam looked at her quizzically but eventually turned back to his space on the couch.

Brittany's body fell back into the pillows, relieved yet frustrated. From the corner of her half open eyes, she saw the pale blue light of her cellphone blink at her from the table by her bed.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Santana sat on her couch, laptop balanced upon her knees trying desperately to swallow her heart. The pictures seemed endless. Brittany crossing a bridge with Sam's arms wrapped around her, Brittany standing at the peak of a cliff looking out into green, snow topped mountains, her hair wild in the wind and her eyes lit up in the dazzling sun like a firefly mid summer. The last picture was by far the worst. Santana closed her eyes and gulped in a breath as warm prickly heat, the uncomfortable kind, ran up her neck and made her dizzy and nauseated. Squinting reluctantly back at the photo as if she could limit the amount of painful perfection she let in, Brittany's smile lights up the screen, her pretty pink lips parted wide, laughing in mirth, cheeks rosy from the sun and skin glistening, every bit as stunning as the scenery.

"You've got to put that away Santana. You're just torturing yourself."

Santana jumped and whipped her head around.

"Quinn just…" Santana sighed deeply and looked down and her boots "It's better than deluding myself, okay? The last thing I need is to get to Lima and have a breakdown."

Quinn shook her head like she couldn't argue to the contrary but still found Santana's logic suspect.

"Right, well I hope your strategy has worked because we've got to leave. I promised Kurt we'd meet him at check in by 5."

 

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know. She's going to have to try, at least until after the wedding."

"I can fucking hear you guys. I'm standing right here."

The line up to the check in counter was long. Every few steps they advanced along the velvet ropes, Kurt and Quinn glanced worriedly over their shoulders and muttered to each other urgently.

"San, I don't understand why you're getting so worked up…" Kurt trailed and restarted at the look on Santana's face. "I mean I do, because it's Brittany but if anything, you should be proud coming back to Lima, I mean, we're the ones that made it, right? We're the conquering heroes!" Kurt exclaimed hopefully, his eyes darting to Quinn for reinforcement. She nodded encouragingly.

"Please don't call me that right now. Don't call me San." Santana breathed deeply before continuing. The knot in her stomach did nothing to loosen. "It's not that I'm not proud. It's just that I can't impress Britt with a fancy job. She's not like that and you know it. I have no girlfriend, no love life to speak of and the minute she sees me, she's going to know she's the reason why."

There's a long pause. Kurt's delicate eyebrows knit in concentration and Quinn rubbed Santana's shoulder, trying to communicate her sympathy.

Kurt glanced between the two and suddenly, his features cleared. Quinn seemed to recognize something that Santana in her anxious state was too preoccupied to see because her eyes went wide and her head started shaking violently from left to right.

"No no no, you are not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"What?" Kurt said, turning to Quinn with an evil grin. "It's perfect! You can save face in front of Mr and Mrs. Berry-Hudson and Santana can look like less of a loveless loser!"

"Gee, thanks lady Hummel but can someone fill me in as to what you two are blathering on about?"

"You and Quinn!" Kurt motioned towards you and pointed at Quinn, back and forth expectantly.

"What about us?"

Quinn sighed heavily and ignored Santana, turning instead to Kurt again. "Kurt, that's not going to work. Brittany would see straight through it. Besides, what could that possibly help?"

Registering the implications of the conversation finally, Santana blanched. "Whoa hold up-"

"Hear me out!" Kurt hastened to explain. "Brittany has never seen Santana be anything but hopelessly devoted to her or bitterly solitary for not having her. She needs to get a taste of what it's like to be in second place. We all know there's something there still, don't we? I mean…" he turned to Santana with a small, sad smile, "you're Santana and Brittany."

The three of them stood looking back and forth between one another. At last, Santana's eyes settled on Quinn's. She was biting her bottom lip.

"What do you think Q? Could we pull this off? I know it's mental but I just don't know if I can face Britt like this. She can't see what an empty shell I am without her. Nobody wants the oyster without the pearl."

Santana's rare expression of honest vulnerability quieted Quinn. She looked at her friend and sighed.

"Santana Lopez, you're lucky I'd do practically anything for you. It's not going to be easy. Brittany has always been able to see straight through you," She chuckled at that but her smile dimmed quickly. "But that just means, we've got to be convincing."

On the plane, Kurt sat between a nervous Santana and a scheming Quinn.

"S, are you even paying attention? If you want this thing to work, you've got to focus. Otherwise, we can all forget it and you can play sad sappy spinster next to Sam and Britt all weekend." Quinn chided with a frown.

Santana swallowed the bile rising in her throat and nodded. This plan gave her cold sweats as her conscience flared in her chest, but she couldn't imagine a single thing worse than the alternative.

Kurt took that as the green light to begin planning. He was now determined to orchestrate this ruse as smoothly as one of his weddings. Planning was sort of his thing.

"First things first: the essentials. You both have got to look convincing as more than friends. That means some kisses that go beyond sisterly. And remember, this is Brittany, so you've got to look like you like it."

Without saying a word, Quinn and Kurt rose from their seats and maneuvered out into the aisle, only to slip back in having switched places. Now in the middle of the three-seat row, Quinn turns to Santana.

"Ready for this Lopez?"

"I might throw up in your mouth but go for it."

"You heard Kurt. Either suck it up or forget the whole thing. I don't want to be caught participating in this desperate charade, especially at Finn's wedding."

"Oh and you think I do?" Santana bristled. "I must be fucking insane."

With that, Santana leaned in abruptly, determined not to give herself any time to back out. She collided with Quinn mouth first, slightly harder than was ideal and drew away instantly, but all in all, it wasn't as horrific as she had anticipated.

A slow clap sounded from the other side of Quinn. "There you go ladies, easy. I never thought I'd be coaching girl on girl action but my range of skills surprises me on occasion."

Quinn rolled her eyes and shrugged with indifference. "Come on then Lespez, practice makes perfect."

The trio landed at Allen County Airport and went directly to their hotel, forgoing any reunions until all three were more prepared.

Santana dropped her bags by the queen size bed and looked across the room at Quinn.

"I still think this whole room thing is unnecessary."

"Santana, we don't need anymore reasons for anyone to see through this set up, okay? It's not a big deal."

Santana looked down at her hands, they hadn't fully stopped shaking since she closed her laptop back on her couch in San Francisco.

"Can I ask you a question?" It came out as a pained whisper and Quinn gentled, nodding once. "Why are you agreeing to this? We have no guarantee that it'll make any sort of impression on Brittany and it certainly doesn't promise a particularly relaxing weekend back home."

Quinn sat down heavily on the bed and got that scared sparrow look that always came when she was about to be too honest for her own comfort. Santana knew the face, because she had one of her own.

"It's crazy really. We're successful, well off and we actually escaped this place but somehow, I still feel like a failure. When I think about watching Finn and Rachel at Grace Baptist on Sunday, all my achievements, the book deals, the best sellers, they just seem like distractions."

Santana nodded. She wished she could tell Quinn how familiar she was with that feeling but couldn't find the words and suspected anyway, that she already knew. Her eyes stung suddenly and she fought against the urge to blink while struggling to change the subject.

"I still can't believe they're getting married in a church. Don't they recognize the medieval implications of a religiously sanctioned wedding? The misogynistic history of gendered oppression, the ongoing infiltration of dogmatic inequalities into government policy by right wing religious nuts?"

"Probably not San. Not everyone can be a UN human rights lawyer." Quinn smiled fondly at her friend. "We may be failures at love but we have changed a whole lot since high school. Do you remember when you were so scared to come out that you had sex with Finn?! Things could be worse." Santana nodded ruefully. "If we can get through these next three days, we're in the clear and it's back to doing what we do best."

"Ruling?" Santana asked with the bourgeoning hint of a smile.

"Precisely."

***

Santana woke the next morning to Kurt pounding on their hotel room door and Quinn yelling from the bathroom that she couldn't get it because she was shaving her legs. Kurt made a disgusted noise.

"Heard that. Santana, get your ass up and let me in!"

Santana groaned but lifted herself from the bed nonetheless. She almost forgot where she was for a second but all too soon, the reality of her whereabouts and what the day held for them hit her in the chest.

She swung the door open violently and glared at Kurt who rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

"Morning sunshine. Are we all ready?"

Santana shrugged. "As ready as we'll ever be."

"Well I brought some back up." Kurt said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a bottle of Jack.

"Um, it's barely 11 Kurt, is there something you'd like to share? Perhaps anonymously?"

Kurt rolled his eyes just as Quinn emerged from the bathroom, clothed in a yellow summer dress.

"Actually Santana, it's for you and lemon meringue over here. I haven't forgotten what alcohol inspired in your two at Shue's wedding."

"Oh god. I knew telling you was a mistake." Quinn sighed.

"Hey! I kept the secret didn't I? And besides, you'll need all the help you can get today. We're meeting the gang at breadstix for lunch."

"At breadstix?" Santana paled. "Okay, hand it over." She snatched the bottle from Kurt and took a swig making a face as it burned its way down her esophagus. "Ugh I haven't had a hard drink this early since I was about 17."

By the time the trio reached Breadstix, Santana and Quinn had drained a quarter of Kurt's bottle of Jack Daniels and Kurt had stomached a small portion himself. Santana paid the taxi driver and stepped out in front of the all too familiar restaurant.

"I feel like a teenager again, being here with you guys like this!" Quinn giggled and grabbed Santana's hand, wrapping her other arm around Kurt's shoulders."

Santana felt warm inside and a little hazy from the alcohol. For a second, she forgot her nerves and smiled calmly.

She reached for the door but felt Quinn tug on her harm, holding her back.

"Are you ready Santana? I know we've got to be relaxed but you also need to stay in control."

Santana's smile fell off her face as fast as it came. "Yeah, I know. I think I'll be okay. Just, don't let go of me okay?" She looked down, embarrassed.

"Not even for a second." Quinn promised as she pulled open the door and ushered the three of them inside.

Being more of a dinner destination, Breadstix was almost empty and Quinn saw their table immediately. Everyone but them was already seated and chatting jovially. Kurt nudged Santana to look.

At a big table towards the back, horrifyingly close to the booth Santana always sat with Britney back in the day, sat their gang, looking like they always did yet completely different at the same time.

At the head of the table sat Finn, his hair much shorter than Santana had ever seen it but otherwise looking just as tall and dopy as ever before. To his right was Rachel who jumped up the moment she saw them looking and waved them over to three empty spaces beside her. To Finn's left sat Puck and at the other end of the long row sat Artie in his chair at the foot of the long table with Mercedes and Tina flanking him. Next to Tina, Mike lounged with his arm draped around the back of her chair. Directly across from two of the three spaces Rachel had saved, right next to Puck, sat Brittany and Sam. Sam was in deep conversation with Mike beside him but Brittany's eyes were on Santana. They were bluer than she remembered and her hand, still held firmly in Quinn's, trembled.

"I've got you. I won't let go." Quinn whispered.

Santana gulped but nodded and let Quinn pull her towards the group.

Rachel embraced her first and she found the wherewithal to wrap her free aram around the small girl in return.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Rachel squeeled, releasing Santana to throw herself on Quinn and Kurt in turn. Quinn kept her hand in Santana's throughout the greetings and as Santana's eyes landed on Brittany again, who'd also stood as they reached the table, she noticed the taller girl glancing hesitantly at their joined limbs.

"Hey San." She said simply, leaning in for a hug.

Santana held her breath and patted Brittany gingerly on the back but stepped away before she had a chance to breathe in her Brittany scent, or feel her breasts press against her own, or feel soft blonde locks brush across her neck. Brittany looked down disappointed and Santana looked away, ashamed of her weakness. When she tuned back into her surroundings, Rachel was urging them all to have a seat. Quinn gently pushed Kurt into the one next to Rachel and took the seat next to him, pointedly leaving the one furthest from Brittany and Sam to Santana who gratefully sat down next to her and Mercedes.

"Hey wheezy." She smiled out, genuinely happy to be there for the first time since arriving.

"Hey girl, long time no see."

"I know, I've been meaning to take a drive down to LA and see you but work has just been crazy."

"It's all good, I know how that is. I had three gigs in a row before I flew out here yesterday. Otherwise I would've made the trip up to gayscisco instead and kidnapped you myself." Mercedes laughed and the familiar sound warmed Santana's chest just slightly.

"Okay, I've waited for as long as I can! I want to know what the hell you three have been up to all the way in Cali for the past three years. You've barely even been back for holidays and catching the odd interview on YouTube is not enough."

"Oh Lord. Here we go." Mercedes winked at Santana. "I got the interrogation earlier so now it's your turn."

Luckily Kurt dumped in before Santana had to.

"We'll I've been busy as a bee planning Kanye and Kim's wedding. You wouldn't believe some of the wacky shit they're asking for! Don't try and get any scoops though people, I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Not even if I forgive you for not planning mine?" Rachel whined

"Not even if."

"Okay fine. So that leaves Quinn and Santana. Dish it ladies."

Quinn laughed, high and breathy. "Well I've been doing lots of book signings while trying to finish the latest in my murder mystery series." She looked thoughtful for a second and then continued. "Plus, finding time for this one of course." She looked to Santana, while slowly raising their hands that had been joined below the table to rest on the tablecloth in full view. The action went largely unnoticed by most of the table's occupants, accustomed as they were to the two being close. Mercedes rolled her eyes as if she knew their game all too well; Brittany bit her lip and looked at her hands, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. Rachel just considered them silently for a minute before shrugging and moving on.

"And what have you been doing anyway Santana? Your name has been in the Newspaper a couples times, even in New York!"

If there is one thing Santana is comfortable talking about, it's her job.

"Well I was busy drafting appeals against DOMA and Prop 8 for quite a awhile. Once they finally went to the Supreme Court and were overturned, that freed up my time significantly. At the moment I'm setting up a team to campaign against the new anti-gay laws in Russia. I've been working with the UN and the American Foreign Ambassador in Russia to see if there is anything in International law that would allow for legal action against the bills and if not, if we can apply pressure informally via trade embargoes until the laws are changed. It's slow work but what can you do?"

Santana's tangent trailed off and she looked up to see eleven sets of eyes gaping at her. Brittany was the first to speak and her voice was quite, soft and reverent.

"I'm so proud of you Santana."

Most inconveniently in that moment, Brittany's tone reminded Santana of her post sex whisperings. The voice that bubbled up from her throat just after Santana made her cum particularly hard. She shivered and shrugged the thought off bashfully.

Quinn, Rachel and Kurt grinned, nodding in agreement to Brittany's sentiment.

"We always knew you'd do something great Santana."

"Thanks Rachel."

"Yeah, way to make the rest of us look bad." Artie joked, his smile betraying his kind sincerity.

Santana decided that she felt a strange esprit de corps with him, thinking with bitter amusement that perhaps they should start a support group for Brittany's dejected ex-lovers.

Sam looked down and shifted in his seat, uncomfortable or maybe just impatient.

"Yeah, so anyway." He said lowly. "I was telling the others before you guys arrived, I might be going in half and half with my dad on this bar in Kentucky. A real southern style joint, you know? I want to serve wings and fried pickles. Dad thinks it'll be a hit and I can help manage it from Lima!"

There was a silence and Santana rolled her eyes and gripped Quinn's hand harder. She squeezed back.

"That's cool Sam." Quinn said in a clipped voice. "Santana got invited to dinner with Sonja Sotomayor after the trials in California."

Santana looked down, embarrassed. Surprisingly, so did Brittany, though it looked like she was more embarrassed for Sam.

"Quinn…" Santana said warningly.

"I'm just saying!"

The group giggled with an awkward reserve.

The rest of lunch passed quickly. Santana kept quiet as much as was socially acceptable and every time she found her and Brittany locking eyes across the table, as was quite frequent, she was quick to look away.

The group said their goodbyes and Rachel reminded both men and women respectively about the upcoming bachelor and bachelorette parties for her and Finn, adding with a laugh that Kurt and Santana could go to both if they wanted. Santana rolled her eyes and shared an "oh breeders" look with Kurt.

She skillfully avoided giving Brittany another hug during the farewells and was just celebrating that small victory as she opened the door to another cab, when she felt a tug on her arm and turned around.

"Britt what-"

"Can we talk San?"

"Get in Santana!" Quinn called as she took a seat and gave the cabby the hotel address.

"Uh, I've kind of got to go." Santana said, backing up slowly toward the vehicle as if Brittany were an angry lion, and Santana her prey.

"Santana, I can drive you back. Just talk to me."

Santana ignored her plea. "Where's Sam?" She asked instead.

"He left. He had work at Bart's garage."

Santana nodded but didn't move.

"Santana, we've got to go, he's charging us already! Are you coming?" Kurt pushed.

"Yeah babe, let's go." Quinn chimed, with deliberate sweetness.

It was Brittany's alarmed expression at Quinn's endearment that finally broke Santana.

"Fine Britt. Just a minute though."

"I can do a minute." Brittany flashed her best flirtatious smile and Santana regretted her decision immediately. She waved at Quinn and Kurt, shrugging to convey her confusion and the cab sped away. Brittany led her back to a familiar powder blue pick up truck.

"You still have this old thing?"

"Of course! We can't all afford brand new cars San. Plus I love it, some of my best memories happened in this truck!" Brittany winked and Santana blushed knowing exactly which memories Brittany was referring to.

"Why do you do that Brittany?"

"Do what?" Brittany tilted her head adorably and Santana fought the urge to swoon.

"Flirt with me like that! Remind me of how things used to be." Santana watched her feet kick at the dusty concrete as she spoke but looked up slowly when she finished, gauging Brittany's reaction.

"But I- I want to remind you San! Sometimes it feels like you've forgotten. I don't ever want you to forget."

"So basically I should just torture myself thinking about you while I watch you with Sam? Thanks but no thanks Brittany. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget us-" Santana felt her voice wavering and prayed her words didn't turn into sobs. "But I have to try. I have to. It's been a long time, it's- We've changed a lot…" Santana trailed unconvincingly.

"I don't think we've changed." Brittany mumbled but changed her approach when she saw Santana open her mouth to retort. "Is that what you're doing with Quinn then? Trying to forget me?" Brittany looked on the verge of tears now too and Santana fought to keep her distance as she felt the string in her chest, the one planted there the first day of Kindergarten, the moment she met Brittany, tug her forward.

"This has nothing to do with Quinn." She sighed. She could feel the truth creeping up her throat like bile but she swallowed its bitter flavor back down.

"I know what happened between you two at Shue's wedding." Santana took a moment to digest her shock and then rushed to ask.

"Who-"

"Quinn" Brittany cut her off. "She told me after you'd left Louisville and started at NYU."

"I'm going to kill that bitch!"

"San, it's okay. I was angry but it was a long time ago and I understand why you did it. I just, now seeing you two today… I'm confused."

"I'm not in love with Quinn." Santana whispered. It wasn't a lie and she refused to feel bad about not revealing anything more. "What right do you have to ask me about his anyway? You moved on just fine."

Brittany recognized Santana's defensive default tone of anger and quelled it gently as she always did.

"Santana, I didn't have a choice but to move on. You left me and I was completely lost. I felt like this part of me that had always been there was yanked out of me and I felt the loss every single day, like a missing limb. I still feel it. But then I think, look what you've accomplished! My consolation is your achievements San but-" Brittany touched her chest gingerly, as if fingering a wound. "It doesn't mean I don't still love you-" Santana tried not to focus on the implications of that sentence. "But the last time you called me was to invite me to your graduation! You didn't even tell me you got a job in San Francisco."

Santana twisted her mouth to the side and pinched the skin of her arm to mask the guilt flooding her features.

"I knew that Kurt or Quinn would tell you. It's not like I meant to keep it from you. I- I'm s-" She almost said it but her mouth snapped closed and locked like a rabbit trap. An image of Sam's big stupid head and guppy lips kept it clamped tightly.

Brittany sighed and gave Santana a sad, knowing smile. There was only so much she could squeeze out of Santana when she was like this and Brittany always knew when she'd reached the limit, but she needed to keep Santana there, just a moment longer. Her stomach lurched at the thought of watching her frightened deer retreat again.

"How long are you in town?" Safe questions.

"Just for the weekend."

"That's not long…" Brittany's voice became even softer and she looked so fragile; a porcelain doll, all pale creamy skin and big beseeching eyes. Except that Santana knew it wasn't easy to break Brittany. Santana's skin, beneath all her sharp words, was much more frangible.

"I better get going." Santana croaked, looking over her shoulder for a distraction that wasn't there.

"Okay, but please let me drive you."

Santana never could say no to Brittany Pierce. Not even as a little girl.

 

"I'm Brittany Susan Pierce. My hair isn't always like this. I tried to give myself bangs but Mummy took the scissors before I finished."

Santana sniffed and looked up at the lanky girl above her. Crimson scrapes marked her otherwise pale knees and she wore denim overall shorts overtop a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. Her hair was almost white blonde and sure enough, noticeably uneven at the front. Her eyes were blue and curious; her cheeks rosy and dusted with freckles. Santana almost forgot herself with staring at the strange girl. Brittany, she corrected.

"Why are you crying?" Brittany asked when Santana didn't respond. "Did you hurt yourself? I hurt my knees yesterday and I cried a little too."

Santana shook her head rebelliously. She wasn't hurt, at least not physically. The words of playground bullies left different kinds of marks than those fixed with a Band-Aid. Nevertheless, there beneath the tunnel slide, on the playground at recess Santana found that her tears dried quickly as she listened to Brittany.

"You should come play with me. I'm going to build a sand castle and you can be the princess I rescue from the dragon."

"Okay." The pitched and breathy reply came quick, slipping easily from her lips like nectar from a flower.

Having dropped Santana off, Brittany slowly drove down the main stretch of Lima's one and only high street toward her house. She wondered if Sam would be off work and waiting for her when she arrived. Something deep within her ticked with nerves for reasons she didn't quite yet understand and she hoped guiltily that Sam would go back to his place from the garage instead. Despite being together for so long, Brittany had always resisted his requests to move in together until eventually, he stopped asking.

Turning onto her block she spotted Sam's red Chevy in the driveway and sighed. If Santana was a wild and skittish thing, Sam was a house pet, tame and predictable. He slipped into the house quietly and thought for a moment she would make it up the stairs and into a soothing shower before Sam heard her arrival but he was waiting on the couch looking expectant the second she shut the door behind her.

"Where've you been?"

"I- I thought I left my phone at the studio so I went to look but, turns out… It was in my-" Brittany's sentence broke when a swallow constricted her throat unexpectedly; her body rejecting the lie. "It was in my bag the whole time." She finished lamely.

"So you weren't with Santana?"

"No." Brittany didn't know why she was lying, the words spilled out of her mouth like vomit.

"That's funny." Sam stood and advanced on her. Brittany stepped back in surprise. "Because Artie swore he saw the two of you standing outside Breadstix while he waited for his shuttle bus. Said everyone else had left."

"I just wanted to talk to her Sam. You know how important she is to me. I've missed her."

"Yeah. I do know how important she is to you. You've been somewhere else ever since you found out she was coming!"

"I've been right here…" Brittany stalled for time.

"You know what I mean Brittany!" Sam glanced at a crow pecking at the sidewalk outside like he didn't know whether to continue and wanted an excuse not to. "We haven't had sex in months." He hissed. "And even when we did, sometimes you'd just check out in the middle! Your mind would be off somewhere else."

Brittany looked down. She opened her mouth a few times, grasping for words that weren't coming, she was a struggling fish trying to breathe on land but choking every minute on the wrongness of the situation.

"So what am I supposed to think? You clearly feel the need to lie about seeing her."

"I don't-" Brittany started but Sam wasn't having it. He picked up a backpack sitting idly on the coffee table and strode out of the house. Brittany didn't watch him go. She closed her eyes and focused on the sound of her own breathing, interrupted only by the slamming of the front door that sent a startled shiver down her spine.

Santana prorogued opening the door to her and Quinn's hotel room for several long minutes. Every time her breathing slowed and she reached to swipe her key card, an image of Brittany flashed behind her eyelids and her fragile balloon lungs collapsed upon themselves again. Eventually, Quinn swung the door open instead and came face to face with a gasping pale-faced Santana.

"Oh God. What happened?" She asked, her voice full of apprehension.

"Nothing-" Another gasp. "Nothing I- She… We just talked." Santana spat out each word like it was the last mile of a marathon, her face contorted in something Quinn recognized as her don't you dare cry in public face, so she slipped an arm around Santana's waist and lead her into the room. Kurt was sitting on the bed pretending to read a magazine when they entered but quit the façade immediately when he saw Santana's expression, jumping up to embrace the pair in a messy three-way hug.

"You are okay." He lilted slowly. Enunciating each letter carefully so that Santana understood.

"It was such a mistake coming here."

"Hey, don't say that. We got to see the others too…" Kurt tried lamely.

Quinn snorted. "Yeah, it was just great seeing Rachel and her oversized lap dog."

Santana smiled shakily and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Come on, you've got to admit it was nice seeing everyone else. Plus, did you see how irritated Sam got during lunch?" Kurt winked at Santana but she backed out of their embrace and sniffed.

"That doesn't mean anything. I shouldn't have bragged like that."

"Oh please! You have every right to brag Santana." Quinn chided, her voice a steely blade of conviction. "You sure gave up enough to get there."

Silence fell over the trio, the only noise being three levels of breathing from frustrated to calm to belaboured until the shrill sound of the hotel phone rang out breaking the tense moment. All sets of eyes in the room flicked to it but nobody made a move.

"Someone should get that." Kurt said, still not budging. Quinn rolled her eyes and ran to it, snatching it up on the last ring.

"Hello?"

Santana and Kurt shared a bewildered look and continued to watch Quinn curiously who simply nodded twice, looking quite confused herself. She had yet to say another word before slamming the phone down again, her delicate features contorting into an uncharacteristic scowl. Santana's stomach curdled looking at her. Quinn cleared her throat.

"Brittany is downstairs in the lobby. Asking to speak to a Santana Lopez. You don't suppose there could be another Ms. Santana Lopez in the building do you? It's not a very common name."

Quinn's feigned inquiry about as innocent as a burglar, rubbed Santana the wrong way.

"Just get to the point Q. What is she doing here?"

"I don't know, Santana. She insisted that she speak to you. Wouldn't say anything more, not even to the front desk boy, who was nothing but accommodating. He's not supposed to give room numbers out."

All this was said in an icy, disapproving tone and Santana decided that despite wanting more than anything to curl up in the bathtub, ears under the water and door locked; facing Brittany so soon after their first reunion couldn't be any worse than staying there, in the direct line of Quinn's judgment. She grabbed her purse and walked with forced purpose out the door and down to the lobby.

Santana saw Brittany's slender back facing the large sliding glass doors There was a gloriously uncomplicated moment in which Santana was free to admire the delicate curves of her hips, the long slope of her neck, everything Brittany, before she inevitably felt Santana's presence, as she always could, and turned. When she did, Santana's eyes widened. The bright sapphire of Brittany's eyes looked dim and the white around her irises, an irritated pink. They both froze in front of one another. It seemed like the lobby froze too. Maybe even the world.

 

"Britt-" Santana didn't even get the rest of her name out before she was engulfed by Brittany. Long arms snaked around her and she stood dumbly, extremities paralyzed as the soft scent of Brittany consumed her. Santana held her breath just to prevent her lungs from involuntarily expanding and filling her chest with springtime sun and wisteria blossoms. Slowly and cautiously, Santana lifted her arms and fit them lightly around Brittany. Careful not to hold on too tightly, she pat Brittany's back like a mother might her small child. Tremors shook through Brittany slowly, then faster and harder until they shook Santana too. A sob moistened the skin of Santana's neck where Brittany's head was cushioned. She stepped back pointedly, and looked questioningly at Brittany's tear streaked face that held both an apology and a plea.

Santana knew where they were going long before Brittany pulled into the gravel lot and cut the engine of her truck. The route was almost as familiar to Santana as the contours of Brittany's face.

"Why're we here Britt? What's going on?"

"I don't know." Brittany sniffed and seemed to compose herself slightly. "I know you must hate me-"

"I could never hate you." Santana cut her off firmly and it was true, she had tried.

Brittany just shook her head with a watery smile and continued. "Sometimes I hate me too. I just need you in my life Santana. I don't feel like myself otherwise."

Santana sighed and swiveled in her seat to face Brittany.

"What are you saying Britt? That you want to be friends? Because I was in the friend zone once and I don't think I could do it again. We aren't friends. We were never just friends."

Brittany's face crumpled again. She didn't cry often but when she did, it happened all at once, fast and devastating.

"I'm so sorry Santana. I don't know what to do." If Brittany had meant to say anything more, it was cut off by a fresh wave of sobs.

Santana leaned over the gearshift and cupped Brittany's cheek with a warm palm, wiping periodically at her tears as they cascaded down the smooth plains of her face. Brittany leaned into the touch and her head drifted forward. Santana didn't know she was falling toward her until her nose pumped Brittany's and she gasped.

"Britt." It came out as a whisper and Brittany didn't answer. Her eyes were that dark hungry blue Santana would always remember and her pupils were blown wide.

Brittany tilted her head up hesitantly, but just like her tears, the kiss came all at once. Santana closed her mouth around Brittany's bottom lip and took a shuddering breath in as they parted. Brittany whimpered at the separation and rushed to pull Santana back with a soft grip at the base of her neck. The second kiss didn't end so quickly. Santana felt the slick swipe of Brittany's tongue across her top lip and opened her mouth to lick back at it. Brittany tasted exactly as she remembered. All sweat warmth and bubble mint gum. Santana felt like a runaway train. The space in her chest that had felt frozen for years was finally liquid hot and thumping again and she didn't have the strength to pull away. In the end, it was Brittany who released Santana's rosy lips with a soft pop and slapped her hand over her own mouth in shock, eyes wide as saucers and fearful.

The truck's cabin was thick with tension and the rhythmic panting of both women.

"Oh my god." Brittany's voice was husky and Santana's face flushed with heat at the sound of it. She could feel wetness on her inner thigh and clenched her legs together to subdue the pulse that had started at their apex.

"Yeah…" She concurred ungracefully.

Brittany's head fell into her hands and she groaned into them. Santana couldn't help but smile impishly at the sound. A frustrated Brittany was always inappropriately cute.

"What's up Britt-Britt?" She kept her tone light even though her heart hadn't yet slowed down.

Brittany paused and looked up, her eyes settling for the first time since Santana saw her at Breadstix.

"Can we walk to the river San? I think I'll be able to talk better there."

Santana nodded and muttered a quiet, "course".

The water was high and fast when Brittany and Santana reached the bank. It must've rained recently. The sound of it rushing reverberated off the trees in the otherwise silent clearing like a long drawn out applause. Santana halted mid step when she saw it. A moss covered spot under a big old weeping willow where she and Brittany had shared their first kiss, where she had made love to Brittany for the first time and where, at 12 years old, Brittany had told Santana that she loved her. Even when she knew Santana couldn't possibly say it back yet. Brittany must've seen the frightened animal look in Santana's dark eyes because she grabbed her hand and held it up to her chest with both hands as she walked backwards, leading Santana until they dipped under the low hanging branches of the willow.

"Do you remember when we first found this place?"

Santana smiled. "I'll never forget." That was true as well. She had tried.

"Come on Sanny, you said we could race!"

"Wait up Britt, not everyone can have Olympic legs like you." Santana's voice floated through the trees until she emerged in front of Brittany almost colliding with her in her haste to catch up. She put her hands on Brittany's shoulders, caramel on milky white and steadied them both on the loose ground.

Brittany was a whole foot faller than her. She kept saying Santana would catch up when she hit her growth spurt but Santana didn't quite believe it. She sort of liked being shorter anyway. Brittany could give her piggybacks easily now, and she could reach all the top racks in clothing stores.

Brittany giggled and Santana realized she hadn't yet lifted her hands from Brittany's shoulders. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's slim waste and pulled her in to indicate that she didn't mind the touch. It was Santana's turn to giggle then.

"You're all sweaty Britt-Britt." It came out breathier than she intended and she looked down embarrassed at the foreign husk to her own voice.

Brittany let her go and walked to the edge of the slowly meandering river.

"Well lucky we found the river then, huh?"

"We don't have our suits though! I can't swim like this."

Without a word Brittany grabbed at the hem of her blue summer dress and yanked it up over her head and off in one motion. Santana froze watching her, until she realized her indiscretion and dropped her eyes to her feet. Brittany never used to make her blush quite so easily and frequently as she had been doing that summer. Santana didn't want to think about why that might be.

"What are you waiting for San?"

"I- I don't know- Um-Give me a second."

Santana floundered helplessly. She couldn't possibly be shy about undressing in front of Brittany. They'd had baths together as young children, changed in each other's presence countless times and yet, in that clearing under a swaying willow tree in the summer before 6th grade, Santana felt that everything had changed. She loosened the draw of her shorts and let them fall to her feet, unbuttoning her sleeveless blouse and slipping it off her shoulders as she flicked her shorts with a toe into a crumpled pile to her side. All the while, her eyes stayed low, focusing on the movement of her own hands. When at last her gaze lifted, she found that Brittany hadn't moved an inch. She was staring somewhere below Santana's face with an expression that Santana had never seen before. It was somehow both vacant and full of concentration at once. The tips of her ears and apples of her cheeks were a rosy pink and looking at her, Santana felt a wriggling heat sink low in her belly before finally settling between her legs to pulse distractingly.

"Britt?" Her voice shook with uncertainty.

Brittany seemed to snap out of her trance and, realizing where her eyes had been fixed, blanched before her face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Sorry, you just look so grown up now San."

Brittany always spoke plainly but this time she didn't elaborate further. Looking down at her own blossoming chest, Santana knew what she meant. She thought that maybe the new soft places on Brittany's body were similarly the reason behind her suddenly shy demeanor. She only realized that her eyes had been fixed on the modest curve of Brittany's breasts as she thought, when Brittany giggled and slipped out her of line of vision by jumping lithely into the river. Santana followed her with a delighted shriek. The water was bone chilling despite the warm summer sun and Santana gasped as her face breeched the waters surface.

"Oh my god, Britt it's freezing!" She cried in dismay, scrambling toward the bank.

Just as her hand touched soggy grass Brittany's cool wet palm stopped her with a gentle tug on her bicep.

"Come here, I can keep you warm."

Santana gulped and stepped into Brittany's waiting arms. Their bare tummy's pressed first, followed by their chests, barely covered by damp cotton bras. Santana could feel Brittany's erect nipples though the fabric and was sure Brittany could feel hers, hard as they already were from the cold rushing around them. Santana clung desperately to her warmth and the two were frozen in their embrace for several long minutes until with a jolt, Santana felt Brittany's hands stroke tentatively down the length of her back.

Brittany and Santana sat under the swaying limbs of the willow and listened to the rustling of the trees, the constant rumble of water and their own shallow breathing. Sunlight filtered through the coniferous tree canopy shedding ethereal green light broken by beams of gold over the clearing like the woods of Lothlórien.

"So, why're we here Britt?"

"I don't know. I wanted to feel close to you I guess."

"I'm right here…"

"You're not though. We used to be so close I could almost feel you inside me."

Santana choked on nothing, prickly heat creeping up her neck to her cheeks.

"I didn't mean… You know what I meant." Brittany pleaded with a flustered huff.

"Yeah, I guess so. Did you really expect it to be the same as it was though Britt? We can't be close like that. You have Sam now."

"Sam." Brittany echoed, like she'd just remembered something tragic.

"Yeah, Sam."

Another silence and then Brittany took a deep breath, gathering something within herself: gumption, courage maybe.

"I love Sam. I do. When you left, he was the closest thing I had to a best friend.

"Brittany, you don't need to explain. We weren't together. I get it.

"Please, I want to. He loved me when I really needed somebody to. We've been comfortable for a long time. It's safe and predictable with him, but-"

Santana's head snapped around to face Brittany. Her pulse beat so rapidly; the rhythm was visible in the artery of her neck. Brittany watched it with intrigue but didn't continue.

Santana prompted her with a desperate impatience Brittany hadn't heard since they were teenagers. "But?"

"But…You and I; we're something I never had to talk myself into. We just were. We just are." She abridged. "It's like the natural order, or something. And it's not always safe or confortable. Sometimes it hurts so deep, I think I'll collapse but that's what passion is like sometimes."

Brittany shrugged and shifted her eyes to the river and Santana restrained her compulsion to reach out and stroke her self-consciousness away.

"So, you don't have passion with Sam?"

Brittany gulped like she was swallowing a too large pill.

"I had desperation which for a long while, masqueraded as passion. I don't know what we have now. Companionship I guess."

Santana reclined on her arms, leaning back and breathing out a heavy sigh. Brittany waited a couple beats but when Santana didn't speak, she nudged her playfully with her shoulder. Santana laughed despite herself and Brittany smiled, just like she always did when she got Santana to laugh.

"I'm sorry." Santana said weakly. It wasn't what she meant but it was close enough.

Brittany didn't respond, she just shrugged and gave Santana an understanding look, deep and trusting. The chaotic beating in Santana's chest stilled and settled as she stared.

"Do you want to come to my place?" Brittany's voice was suddenly nervous again and it unsettled Santana's stomach from the momentary peace she was enjoying.

"I don't know Britt. Everything is so complicated right now, I don't want to make it worse."

"You always over think things San. Just come over for a visit. I'll be good, I promise."

Brittany's cat eyes lit up with jovial mischief and Santana thought it so familiar and so endearing that she was nodding before she realized it.

The baby blue truck pulled up in front of a small house, painted bright creamy yellow with white trimmings and potted plants lining the porch banister. Santana had only ever seen this house in pictures on facebook that she reluctantly glanced at when her curiosity overwhelmed her. In person, it was even more Brittany than it was in print.

Brittany led her up the steps and opened the front door to a modest entryway, a messy pile of boots and shoes next to the hallway closet. Brittany kicked them aside as she entered and looked back at Santana sheepishly. Santana knew this to be a habit of Brittany's and smiled understandingly.

The living room was cozy with a plush red sofa facing a round wooden coffee table covered in magazines and a small television on the opposite wall. The wall at the far end was covered in pictures of Brittany's family and Santana felt her face warm as she spotted quite a few snaps of her younger self among Brittany's parents, aunts, uncles and family pets. Brittany must've seen her looking because she took Santana by the upper arm and turned her gently, nodding her head to the couch and gesturing for Santana to sit.

They sat side by side, stealing furtive looks for several minutes until they both tried to sneak a look at the same time and Brittany pulled a goofy face, making Santana giggle.

"So, how're your folks doing?" She stuck resolutely to safe topics, ones that wouldn't inspire nausea.

"They're great! They miss you though. Dad is always saying how he would kill for some of those empanadas you make."

Santana smiled; strangely satisfied to hear that Brittany's family had missed her presence.

"Yeah well… I definitely miss your dads fried pickles."

Brittany nodded, like she would miss those too, in Santana's position.

"You should come have dinner with them tomorrow! They'd love to see you and I'm meant to be visiting after the rehearsal anyway."

Santana nodded. She wasn't sure seeing Brittany's parents would do anything to resolve her confusion but thought it rude to refuse the offer outright.

"And your sister?" Brittany rolled her eyes at Santana's prolonged interest in her older sister.

"Ashley is fine. She's still painting, still in Seattle. Still married." Brittany said pointedly.

Santana laughed, shaking her head at Brittany's sisterly jealousy.

"Just wondering, BrittBritt." Brittany's expression softened at the endearment.

"Have you seen your parents yet?" Brittany's voice was apprehensive. She knew Santana's family was a sore subject.

"No, not yet. I know I should call and let them know I'm here but, I just keep putting it off."

"You've got to tell them Santana." Brittany's voice was infinitely gentle and patient and despite Santana's exasperation at her familial situation, she swooned at the sound.

"I know, I know. I will." Brittany looked disbelievingly at her and raised her pretty light eyebrows. "Well, I will now." Santana amended and Brittany smiled.

Their innate understanding of one another tugged at something deep in Santana. Almost at the quick of her and she felt the force propel her forward. Brittany sensed the shift and gasped as Santana's face came impossibly close, only pausing an inch from Brittany's parted lips.

"Sorry." She whispered, feeling her own breath mingle in the space between them.

Brittany shook her head but before either of them could close the remaining gap, a sharp knock sounded from the porch followed by a short burst of more insistent knocks on the hard oak of the door. Santana reeled, leaning away from Brittany as fast as she'd advanced. Brittany looked entirely dazed and didn't rise for several seconds. It took Santana glancing at the door for her reverie to snap. This time, Brittany apologized and Santana shook her head.

Santana stayed frozen on the couch trying to regulate her frantic breathing as Brittany ran belatedly to the door.

"Is Santana here? I know she's here. You better not be hiding from me Santana Lopez!"

Quinn's pejorative tones bellowed through the house from just outside. Santana jumped up from the couch and ran to the door to fins Quinn pushing through it and passed a silent Brittany, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Quinn! Cool yourself, I'm not hiding. What's your problem?"

Quinn stopped short when she saw Santana turning slightly to look between Santana and Brittany with distinct suspicion.

"What's going on here?"

Santana scoffed disbelievingly. "What's going on with you? We were just talking."

"Talking." Quinn repeated as if she's never heard the word before.

Santana looked at Brittany and they both nodded, but Santana knew Quinn wouldn't be convinced. She could see Brittany's ears turning crimson from meters away.

"You two haven't had the ability to be alone and 'just talk' since we were 12 years old. Don't lie to me."

An awkward silence charged with accusation, truth and confession loomed in the hallway

Santana opened her mouth to speak but another knock from the now open front door came before she could.

All three women turned on the spot to look at the latest visitor, hand still poised against the wood.


End file.
